


In my defence, I wasn't supposed to be around this long

by Gingersnaps (K___P)



Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Dream Smp, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Sacrifice, Traitor Wilbur, Whump, l'manburg, please don't dig deep for romance folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26798698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K___P/pseuds/Gingersnaps
Summary: It's probably been a long time coming, Wilbur muses.He stares at the outstretched hand, wondering if this was how Eret felt. If betrayal and an old friend was worth his family.OR: the one in which everything goes to shit, all because I love the idea of not-so traitor Wilbur and that good good trope of self sacrifice
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971445
Comments: 27
Kudos: 347





	In my defence, I wasn't supposed to be around this long

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The One that Hurt the Most](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751136) by [lucradiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucradiss/pseuds/lucradiss). 



> My new phones so fucked I was typing up the techno and wil convo part of this and it kept giving me laughing crying emojis
> 
> Title from cigarette ahegao, it slaps so hard
> 
> I might do a second part to this but idk I thought that in the wake of all the evil Wilbur fics I should post this  
> It's been in my mind ever since I read the one that hurt the most, and I wrote 11 a5 pages at midnight because of this shit

Wilbur clenched and unclenched his fists inside his pockets, feeling for all the world like a butterfly under a microscope. Shivers crawled up and down his spine as Schlatt's slitted yellow eyes pierced into his soul, smug and triumphant and so, so familiar all at once. God, he hates that this was where they'd ended up, but it ... wasn't as out of left field as the rest of the SMP thought.

(Sometimes, he still woke up shaking, an unbearable heat inching ever closer as laughter rang out from above him; an oppressive pressure pounding at his skull, heart racing in panic, as a door slammed shut-)

"So." Despite his mind screaming for him not to move, not to _flinch_ , Wilbur's head still shot up to stare at (his old friend) Schlatt. "I leave your little... Pog-topia-" and here he made a face, drawing out the words in a way that would've set Wilbur off shouting a month ago, "-alone, and let your members and Manburg's mingle? I lose all the power I have, hell, I lose _my_ right hand man, while you gain everything?"

Schlatt reclined in (Wilbur's) his chair, a comically puzzled look on his face.

"Why, it sounds rather biased towards you, don't you think?"

"Oh, just spit it out, Schlatt. I can't be bothered dealing with your games right now." There was a hollow edge to the bite of his words, bitterness where passion had once been. Schlatt raised his eyebrows, pleased. "What do you want?"

"Well... You see, Wilbur, if I let Tubbo go, it puts me in the market for a new right hand man, you know? Tommy's no good-" Wilbur bristled, "-and, besides, he's part of _Pogtopia_ , and Technoblade isn't passionate enough for my, ah, ambitions.

"I'm sure you can tell what I'm thinking, Wil. In exchange for Pogtopia's freedom, I want you to be my right hand man."

In all honesty, Wilbur hadn't been expecting anything less. The former President of L'manburg supporting Schlatt would be an attractive thing for him to be able to say, after all.

(Plus, as much as he hated to think it, he'd be the perfect leverage to use against Pogtopia in case things went awry.)

Staring at Schlatt's outstretched hand, callouses from pranks and challenges (and ladders and lava and doors and drowning-), he found himself at a momentary dilemma.

Momentary. He took the hand, shaking it firmly to hide the minute trembles, glaring into the other's eyes.

"Deal. Release your hold on Tubbo, Niki and Eret." He considered for a moment, the sting of betrayal still fresh in his mind. "And... Fundy and Jack, too."

In the flickering torchlight, Schlatt's grin seemed to stretched on and on, horns glowing wickedly.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Wil."

\---

If you were to ask George or Quackity what they were doing, they would (very adamantly) say "not spying". If you were to ask Tubbo the very same, he would say "spying", more specifically on Schlatt and Wilbur's meeting.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Schlatt with Wilbur - it would be treasonous not to - it was just that ... Ever since they'd laid eyes on each other after the campaigns, there'd been an underlying tension in the air. Schlatt's pointed smiles and thinly veiled references that flew over everyone's heads but put Wilbur on edge hadn't gone unnoticed; once upon a time, Tommy and Tubbo had made jokes about them.

(Those days, before the threat of war, sat on the wooden bench overlooking the land of the SMP had probably been the most at-peace he'd felt. Everything after that was tainted in some way or another, and he found himself wishing for the past.)

So when they emerged from the doors of the White House, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Wilbur's eyes were downcast, brows furrowed and shaking fists clenched around a slip of parchment. Behind him, Schlatt leaned against the doorway, looking every bit the cat that got the cream. It was enough to send alarm bells ringing in his ears; looking over at Quackity, all the mirth had gone from his face.

Tubbo wasn't sure if it was better or worse that he wasn't just overthinking.

As they watched Wilbur's form retreat into the sunset, disappearing into the woods, Schlatt spoke up. 

"Gentlemen," he started, voice low and carefully controlled, "gather the old L'manburgians. Tell them to meet at the stands, then wait there yourselves. I believe I may have quelled the uprisings." As he waved Quackity and George off, he turned back to Tubbo. "Oh, one more thing."

"Yes, Mr President?" He hated the way his voice shook.

"Go and change out of that suit. You won't be needing it anymore."

\---

That morning had started out like any other, with Tommy rolling out of bed way too early and making his way down to the kitchen, that was really just a bit of hollowed-out rock. He greets Techno on the way, who looks shifty and preoccupied, and grabs the first thing he sees. Tubbo and Wilbur used to team up, back in L'manburg, forcing him to eat at least two fruits a day, but, well... Things changed.

"'Ey, Techno, d'you know where Wil is? Haven't seen 'im all day, and normally he's around by now."

"That's actually what-"

"I'm right here, Tommy."

At the sound of the exhausted voice, they both whirled around, Techno's braid whipping his face in a way that would've been funny in another time. in the entryway is Wil, tired smile on his face contrasting the heavy bags under his eyes. In his hand is a little piece of parchment, crumpled up and slightly ripped.

Naturally, Tommy spoke first, because the other two were idiots who should listen to what he says more often. "Oi, Wil, where were you? Y'always get mad at _me_ for leaving unannounced late at night, so-"

"What's that paper, Wilbur?" Techno's voice is calm and level as always, but there is a hint of steel in his tone that has both Tommy and Wilbur recoiling slightly.

"Ah- about that, Schlatt wants us to meet at the Presidential Stands' ruins."

The atmosphere was heavy with an uncomfortable tension, Techno's eyes focused on Wilbur and Wilbur's eyes focused on the floor.

"We gonna get shanked, big dubs," Tommy says, as brightly as he can.

Wilbur laughs. It sounds fake.

Tommy doesn't dwell on it.

\---

Techno isn't the most talkative guy, even in the best of situations. In places where the dynamic is unclear, the idea of saying the wrong thing in the wrong tone is, admittedly, terrifying. And so, he finds himself silent as they arrive at the seating area, even as Tubbo runs up to them and flings his arms around Tommy. Behind the shorter boys, he can see Niki and Eret making their way over, the latter giving him a nod while Niki beams.

"You're here! Wait, you're here-? Are you even allowed to be here for this speech? I thought-"

Tommy cuts his best friend's ramblings off with a raised hand. "Hold on, this is more important. Tubbo, why aren't you in a suit?"

Now that he's paying attention, it seems nobody on the chairs is wearing a suit, or even a tie. While Niki had been actively against it (and Techno couldn't forget the way Wilbur would go silent whenever her small-scale rebellions got her punished), and Eret had bluffed something up about being king (Tommy had cracked a smirk when he heard), he'd been under the impression that suits were mandatory.

"-uh? Oh, right, Schlatt said I wouldn't need it anymore. Weird, right? Think he's finally giving up?"

Techno's eye is drawn to the podium, where Schlatt is standing amongst the charred wood and singed banners, a daunting grin on his face. "I doubt it."

"Well, everyone." Schlatt's voice was silky-smooth and dripped with a deadly poison. It was almost mesmerising. "It feels like so long since we've last spoken together as a group. I thought it only fitting that I deliver my message to you all, like this. 

"For the past month, I'm aware that there has been some... Dissension in the ranks, and so my good friend Wilbur Soot and I sat down to discuss this issue. C'mon up, Wil, no need to be so shy, jeez."

With a jolt, Techno realised that Wilbur was already up on stage; when he'd moved from beside them, he had no idea. A pit was starting to form in his stomach.

"If everyone's joined together, there's no reason to fight, yeah? So I am hereby revoking the exiles of Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit. In addition to this, all L'manburgians are free to leave their positions in my staff - encouraged, even!"

As the joyful cries of Tommy and Tubbo rang in his ears, Techno found his attention fixed on Wilbur, who had slowly grown more and more tense as the speech went on. Something wasn't right, and the sinking feeling turned gnawing.

"Now, now, because Wil and I worked so well together, both now and in the past..." Wilbur winced slightly; Techno's nails dug into his palms, "we've decided that Wilbur will be joining Manburg as my replacement right hand man, starting effective immediately.

"That is all. Goodnight."

There was a buzzing in his ears as he struggled to process all of the new information. Next to him, Tommy was spluttering, brows furrowed as he asks, _begs_ Wilbur to laugh, say it was a joke, anything.

He doesn't. Tommy's face falls.

Schlatt sends them one last triumphant smirk, wrapping an arm around Wilbur's shoulder and turning away. It is only once his brother has been dragged out of his sight, shoulders hunched and looking so small, that Techno snaps out of his stupour.

"We're going to get him back, right Techno? This is all some-some temporary thing that won't matter tomorrow, yeah?" Tommy's voice shakes. 

"I-" He thinks of what little Wilbur revealed about Schlatt during late-night trips, of the secretive smiles and barely-suppressed grimaces; he thinks of the story of the Revolution, how Wilbur was only willing to give in to spare his men from further harm.

He thinks of the burning stare Wilbur fixed him with two days ago, right before he disappeared (disappeared to go see Schlatt-); he thinks of the short, sharp words exchanged, the orders to keep Tommy out of trouble before he signed away his freedom.

He thinks of Wilbur, and of Schlatt, and finds himself unable to answer.

\---

**Tommy Interlude**

"I'm here to make a deal with you."

Tommy's tone was harsh, brooking no room for argument. Schlatt raised his eyebrows, lazily meeting the teen's bright blue eyes with his amber ones.

"Oh? Is this, perchance, about Wilbur's new job?" At the way Tommy tensed, Schlatt felt a rush of victory, leaning back in the chair that was rightfully Wilbur's. "Riiiight... Aren't you happy for him? Old friends, reunited at last over many a perilous year?"

"He never mentioned you," Tommy spat, venom drilling from his words. Across the room, shoulders rose up almost to horns. They lowered a moment later, but he was willing to take the small victory all the same.

"Well, whether he mentioned me or not doesn't really matter. Bad news, kid, I have it on his authority that you don't make any deals with me, or any of my men. It was, like, a big part of our agreement. Would you disrespect that? Are you willing to go against his wishes?"

Tommy bared his teeth, resisting the urge to rip those stupid horns off his skull as he stormed away from the office.

\---

The thoughts in his head as Techno makes his way through Manburg, past half-recovered explosions and the charred remains of L'manburg's beloved Hto Dog Van, are all very violent and aimed very specifically at one person. Pushing open the heavy doors, he tries to school his features into something less outwardly murderous. He and Wil may be on opposite sides in name, but he would never want to scare him.

He was unconscious at his desk, head pillowed on folded arms on top of (way too much) paperwork. In his sleep, he looked almost peaceful, light grey beanie slipping down over unruly curls and eyebrows uncreased. Ever since the day he'd become Schlatt's right hand, he'd been sleeping in his own room in Manburg. 

At least, that's what he said. It was clear from his eyebags that he'd been working nonstop for at least a week, likely longer. In a moment of clarity, Techno remembered the door - heavy, unmuffled, _closing_ and lunged towards it, frantically trying to make sure it closed softly.

From the way Wilbur flinched, instantly on guard as he awoke, Techno hadn't done a good job. Sleep-hazed eyes tracked the room warily from where his head was angled down.

God, he was going to _kill_ Schlatt at the next opportunity he had.

"Oh, Techno, what's up?" Wilbur's soft brown eyes were tired, flicking towards his chin, his crown, anywhere but his eyes. Something twisted in his chest at the sight of the raw guilt etched into every inch of his face, apology after apology threatening to bubble to the surface. "Anything I can do for-"

The full-body way that Wilbur flinched would forever be burned into his mind, face instantly draining of colour as soon as Techno stepped forwards, arm outstretched to brush back some of the other's messy hair. He froze, watching and waiting for his friend to calm down, even while his own heart rate picked up.

Wilbur was speaking, mouth frantically forming words he couldn't hear. There was a desperation in the way he moved, as if grasping onto the normalcy of their old friendship, but he could see the clear line that Schlatt's right hand man refused to cross.

Instead, he breathed out a shaky, "you're scared of me." It wasn't a question; Wilbur didn't take it as one.

"Not...you, specifically." Again, his eyes flicked towards the mahogany door at the other end of the office, a shiny bronze plaque marking it as the President's Office. As if a switch had been flicked, his demeanour changed, face setting into something blank. "You should be going. 's been lovely seeing you again, but, like..."

"...Right. Will you be coming back to visit-?"

**"Wilbur!"**

Both he and Wilbur jumped, though the other's face soured into something a little more bitter than resignment. He pushed away from his desk, and, God, it was odd seeing him in the plain yellow jumper and dark blue jeans of Before. In the recent months, it had always been his L'manburg uniform, or much more recently his hardy trenchcoat. Like this, he looked softer, out of place whereever he stood.

"I'll take that as my cue to go, then." Techno muttered, Wil barely sparing him a nod as he paused outside the doors. While he was tall, it felt like the doors dwarfed him, looming over them with impossible height.

"Hey, wait, Techno? Could you tell Tommy and Tubbo and the rest something?" Wilbur wasn't looking at him, staring straight ahead.

"Shoot."

"Tell them not to interfere and make everything worse. I have a plan. And ... I'm proud of them."

And then he left before Techno could reply, the last thing he saw being an unnecessarily extravagant room decorated with gold and rubies and a display chest with some diamonds in, open and ready for stealing. The whole place was lit by the bright glow of a lava pillar in each corner.

(Later, when he was passing by the White House again, completely coincidentally, he could hear two voices shouting themselves hoarse, followed by the slam of a door and a crash of pottery. Techno couldn't help but pray to Wilbur's Sky Gods.)

\---

**Fundy Interlude**

What he's doing is stupid. So, so stupid. 

He outright denounced Wilbur, defying his orders out of nothing but pure spite, and went the extra mile every time to secure Schlatt's good favour, something he couldn't even be sure existed in the first place. 

Still, Fundy muses, picking his way towards Pogtopia, at least I can offer resources or protection or ... Something. Manpower? Anything to appease the gnawing guilt in his chest, the hollowness that had plagued his heart ever since Wilbur has begun to look right through him. 

His little peptalk didn't hold up when he was outside of the little indent of a hill, the idea of facing Tommy (god, he was just sixteen, and he'd helped to try and hunt him down-) and Tubbo (just sixteen, too young to wear that suit and heavy expressions) itching at his conscious. Back in L'manburg, Wilbur would've held him in his arms, carding his fingers through orange hair as he sang their national anthem. Back in L'manburg, Wilbur should be playing the guitar along with Tommy's music disce, or arranging flowers for Tubbo's bees, or helping Niki make the secret recipe they kept so elusive. 

But of course, Wilbur was stuck in Manburg under the watchful eye of Schlatt, and it was definitely his fault. 

Suddenly, the idea of talking to Tommy, who had lived through the exile, or Techno, whose only impression had been him at Schlatt's side while he stayed on with Wilbur, was much less appealing. 

But his feelings didn't matter in this, did they? He'd dug himself into this hole, and this time he didn't have anyone's protection to fall back on.

Tubbo had whispered directions into his ear, pressing a note into his hand as they passed each other in the halls of Manburg. His eyes had darted over his shoulder as he spoke, grimacing as faint footsteps clicked in the distance.

"Go, visit them, okay?" He'd muttered. "Bring all the food and water you can. They'll need it."

...

Fundy stared at the hollow out in the ground, hoof marks at least a few days old, temporary dirt door crumbling. There was no sign of any life in the place that had become a second L'manburg.

\---

"Y'know Wil, I think this Dream guy is getting a little- a little too big for his boots."

Wilbur glanced up from the notes he'd scribbled on a page, rubbed out and redrawn and crossed out as he tried to find a melody that clicked. He raised an eyebrow at Schlatt's overdramatic attitude.

"Y'know Schlatt, I fought and won a war against that Dream guy, and I absolutely agree."

The war, while still fresh in his mind, felt so long ago that it was almost a distant memory. Those few short months of bliss in L'manburg, baking with Niki and building with Tubbo and bullying Tommy had eased the stress a little, letting him finally take a deep breath, step back, and let his shoulders relax for a few seconds.

Then Schlatt showed up, and that opened up a whole new can of worms. Wilbur couldn't be sure the other remembered their past meetings - they were from previous worlds, after all, and Phil had mentioned that short-lived worlds don't keep as fresh as long-term ones. All he knew then was that his old friend had arrived and run against him, before exiling him and his not-quite but really-very-close little brother.

"It's just all this speedrunning business that irks me, you get what I mean? Like, big whoop, some people are chasin' after him? I don't see the appeal, Wil! Am I just stupid? Am I missin' somethin'?" Across from him, Schlatt was tugging at his horns now, an irritated scowl building up on his face. Ah.

"I mean ... If we wanted to stop him feeling special, we could do our own little speedrunner versus hunter? Just the two of us, trying to get to the Nether and back?"

Weird slitted goat eyes lit up, and Schlatt clapped his hands together. "Wilbur, you're a genius! We can take him down a few knots _and_ get money from it!" ("How would we-?") "So, d'you wanna be the speedrunner first? I think we can agree I make a pretty good Hunter, all things considered."

Wilbur cast his mind back to (lava lava heat agony tidal waves whirlpools agony-) the Election, grimacing. "Yeah, no shit."

\---

**Techno interlude**

Techno wouldn't say he's a violent guy, all things considered. Sure, he's quick to fight and quick to maim, but he's just as happy building a small farm and sleeping fifteen hours a day.

Which is why, at the sight of _[WilburSoot was slain by jschlatt]_ , he's almost surprised by the rush of bloodlust he feels, the urge to storm Manburg, trap his bed and then kill Schlatt over and over almost unbearable.

Almost, of course. Before, he might have been afraid to admit how close he was to Tommy and Wilbur and Phil, the idea of someone using them against him or (Sky Gods forgive) they themselves betraying him too much to handle. But now that he knew what it felt like to have his brother ripped from beneath his protection, he was ready to fight tooth and nail to bring him back.

Somewhere deeper in the cavern, echoing through the halls, Tommy lets out an enraged scream, shortly followed by a clanging thud that rings in his sensitive ears.

\---

Wilbur glances up as the door opens, a small smile playing at his face as Tubbo walks in, a gentle click echoing round the comfortable room. It used to be Tubbo's, while he worked for Schlatt, but after it had been given to Wilbur it has become more ... permanence based. 

(Tubbo decidedly did not think about that, nor the guitar picks and capo lying strewn across the newly-added table next to the newly-added sofa. He decidedly did not think about what the homeliness meant, both for Wil and for Pogtopia.)

While Wilbur wasn't disappointed that it was just Tubbo - he loves the boy like his own little brother, more well behaved than Tommy yet able to keep pace with them all - he couldn't stop the pang of disappointment at not seeing any of the other L'manburgians.

Niki and Eret were working on ... something, looking harried and tired, flour permanently in Niki's hair and Eret's crown discarded more often than not. Jack Manifold wasn't able to meet his eyes, humiliation burning in his expression every time he and Schlatt walked past. He didn't want to see Fundy.

Tommy took every opportunity their paths met, sometimes going out of his way, to shout curses and insults and threats at him, hurt fueling his hatred to new heights.

Techno refused to acknowledge him at all.

"Hey, Tubbs. What's up? Forget something?" 

Tubbo shook his head. "Ah- no. It's actually about, uh... Well, Techno was, um-" he screwed his eyes shut, fists clenching in effort. "Techno was going to invite Phil round, and wondered if you wanted to-!" Wilbur looked away as the younger's voice cracked. "To join. Them. He'll here for a week, apparently, so...?"

Wilbur flashed him a tired smile, and Tubbo almost couldn't reconcile this exhausted, glorified hostage with the powerful, well-spoken leader he'd known in the Revolution.

(Working in his base, he had heard Wilbur's laugh for the first time in the month or so he'd been separated. It had filled his heart with joy, before he heard the deep rumbles of Schlatt's joining in. He went back to his work, feeling a little sick.)

"Ah... See, I'd love to, but Schlatt asked me to look into this new business venture, so ... I'll be pretty busy. Maybe next time?"

"Right. Maybe next time." The younger boy hovered in the doorway for a bit. "Bye, Wil."

An emotion akin to grief flashed across Wilbur's face, and he pointedly met the other's eyes. "See you, Tubs."

\---

Almost the very next day, Techno made his way to Manburg, intending on finding (and, preferably, reconciling with) Wilbur.

Instead, he found both the Presidential and Secretary's offices open and bare, a simple note lying on the letter's desk.

_when you find this, say hi to dad?_

_-wil :)_


End file.
